


Tantric

by iArgent



Series: Glow and Shine [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: And let's face it that's what it is, Bath, Blowjobs, Danarius and his own special brand of sicko are mentioned, Dorian/Fenris friendship first, F/M, Fendorian, Fenris is so much like a cat, I hereby dub this ship 'Fendorian' because it sounds like a mythical land of magic, It might all be sex but no way is Fenris letting someone he doesn't trust by him, Lovey Fenris, M/M, M/M Sex, Massages, Not explicitly because ew, Oh god that was weird to type after 'Lovey Fenris', Orgasm Denial, Rimming, Serious Dorian, Snarky Dorian, Tantric sex of a sort, The hell did I write?, eh, fingering?, lots 'o kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iArgent/pseuds/iArgent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pwp. Fenris is still having some issues with intimacy, and a friend offers to help. They may realize later they were just to thick headed to do this right away.</p><p>Mentions of past abuse.</p><p>Fluff and smut basically.</p><p>Alternate Title : That time Fenris almost killed Dorian for making him wait LONGER.</p><p>End for notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tantric

Fenris huffed, a small strained noise, and tilted his head back to nestle into the pillow as his lower back arched slightly off the bed, legs trembling.

The man (mage, damnable mage) chuckled softly, breath tickling the elfs ear as he shifted his head slightly from its near permanent place in the junction between Fenris’s shoulder and jaw. One hand was under the elf, the arm a stabilizing thing resting under his mid back.

The other arm pressed warmly down the sweat slick side, its attached maker cursed hand, of course, slid slowly and lightly over the now painfully swollen cock of the lyrium branded Fenris.

                “Venhedis.” Curses, even his voice sounded hot, cracked, strained…Fenris did not want to think on it.

                Dorian lifted his head slightly. He was just as bare, just as hard, and he needed to be near burning as well, as long as this had been going.  And still, he was so… attentive? Fenris almost bit himself in punishment for the thought, no… perhaps _concerned_ would be an easier way of putting it. Nevertheless the human gave him a once over and shifted to slide off the bed.

Fenris could have cried. That is, until a cool glass was pressed to his mouth after his body was shifted. He was, almost, sitting. He felt oddly boneless, and had more or less been lain over one of the humans muscular arms and tilted onto his shoulder. He really should protest being held like some starry eyed woman, but considering he wasn’t entirely sure what arms or legs even did anymore, he simply opened his mouth and took a sip of cool water, it almost hurt his parched throat, but it awakened just how hot and dry he felt. Several quiet murmurs and a half a glass of water later, Fenris was able to prop himself on his own arms, panting, because of course, as his companion finished the glass.

“We’ve been at this…An hour?” Dorian asked, mostly to himself, he seemed to do this frequently. Fenris was simply a bit on edge, laying in such a provocative position, chest heaving, mouth somewhat slack, with a human magister curled up next to him in an equally disturbing way.

“I think we should bathe.”

“We’ve been at this for an hour, and I am in no way sated, mage.”

That smirk.

He’d _planned_ this, the bastard.

But the smirk gave way to a disconcertingly tender look.

“I am in no way going to rush this.” Dorian stated firmly, voice just a little cracked. “You might have your word, but I don’t want to…Do something less than enjoyable.”

Less than enjoyable, a tasteful way to admit nervousness when lying with an aggressive ex-slave. Nevertheless, Fenris felt some more heat crawl into his face. He had thought that in light of his aid to the Inquisition, he should make an active attempt to know this vain, infuriating, conceited, spoiled, considerate, sweet man better. And he’d hated every second of the fall.

His only experience with physical sex, that he could remember anyway, having been Danarius, and thus not at all pleasant, the mages tentative flirtations had been ill received until Fenris had become drunk enough to spill the reasons why exactly, he’d threatened to castrate his….fine. Friend.

Which had led to Dorian offering…Something. It was embarrassing, at first. Fenris had known watchwords were used, he’d never thought he’d need one, not enjoying being held down at all. But the mage had suggested, perhaps not without reason, he choose one, simply for discomfort _. ‘If we’re doing this, you will like it, or we won’t do it.’_ He had asserted. Fenris found himself missing flippant Dorian, just a little, this intensity was strange.

They’d gone to Dorian’s room. A place Fenris could leave and not need to visit with any frequency were this to prove a worse idea then it seemed. He’d first thought the magister was in some way trying to fix him, the idea was…dispelled quickly. Dorian didn’t sit him down and tell him he could get over it. Fenris knew he could, had made strides already. Dorian never pushed.

Upon entering Dorian had gently pulled him closer, a hand at the back of his head, the other curled around one thin wrist. He’d attempted to grip his hair, which, given warning, and time, he may like, but it had just pulled up old memories of his head being jerked about, angles it shouldn’t go, places he desperately wanted to forget. He must have frozen, perhaps uttered the word unconsciously, because the mage had disengaged so quickly Fenris had been at a loss to explain how he’d somehow gotten farther away. _‘Do you want to try this? It’s okay if you don’t, amatus.’_

 _‘Amatus.’_ The word had almost echoed to him. There was no twist to the word, no different inflection. He said it…Almost easily.

He hadn’t even responded, just…swooped upon the man, tilting his head up slightly for the kiss he had been denied. He noticed Dorian refused to stroke or hold his hair. If he slipped, he caught himself. Any movement of his head was done through soft touches to his face, his jaw, chin. The man’s mouth had left him shivery, and not near as alert as he wanted to be for this. When Dorian pulled away, there had been this soft, wet noise, and for reasons unknown, it made Fenris struggle harder for breath, his mouth swollen, tongue languishing in the new flavor. Still wide eyed and dazed, the man had tightened his grip on the elfs waist and pulled him, impossibly, wonderfully, confusingly closer. It gave him pause. He had become used to certain types of physical affection. But this was undoubtedly new.

Varric and Isabela swatting at him. Hawke ruffling his hair to be an ass. Once Hawke and Isabela had become joined at the…He always just inserted ‘hip’ to keep his dreams free of despair. Isabela had taken up exploding into motion and grabbing at him excitedly. It wasn’t his favorite, but despite always being alarmed, he’d come to expect Isabela’s oddities. He imagined she was trying to help. He hadn’t exactly, felt much for arousal. It wasn’t important. People couldn’t be trusted. It had been, now, admittedly, several years now without the…things, his former Master had demanded. He had grown, it was only a few things now, but sex…Arousal…Quite new. This mage. This man who was supposed to be what he hated most. Held him tightly, but he would let go, cradled the base of his skull as they kissed. He was making this safe. Enjoyable.  He was still Fenris’s friend. This didn’t change people as he’d once wondered before Hawke and Isabela, and now, seeing it firsthand…And for a moment he was simply dazed in that knowledge.

_‘You in there? Or is this an elf husk? Tell me, do you shed?’_

Fenris had shivered, full lips twitching into a smile. Flippant, snarky Dorian. He’d never been so happy to be teased.

 _‘Every winter.’_ He ground out _‘we use them as decoys. The woodland creatures come to us with the hopes we’ll frolic with them.’_

That laugh, usually boisterous , deep, something that brought a smile to his face now. It was different, a softer chuckle that made him feel too warm, spicy breath bursting against Fenris’s forehead, then wet lips, the moustache pressing lightly against the soft skin.

 _‘Can we keep going?’_ He was almost surprised to hear himself. But Dorian had simply nodded and leaned back down, and Fenris was drowning again. Dorian placed one hand on the elf’s hip and moved him back until they slid onto the bed, hot dark fingers tilted his head up, exposing his throat. Soon the humans mouth was on the soft skin of his neck, sucking, nipping. The attention making the quivery feeling in his stomach stronger, the hands that began undoing his clothing not helping in the least. Soon he was laid bare, Spread decadently from cradling the human between his thighs, he was too comfortable to move, and too fond of the new look on Dorians face to feel overly self-conscious. His pulse was fluttering madly in his throat, and his skin felt too tight, but so far so good. Dorian had disrobed quickly, looking utterly unconcerned with the heavy look the elf fixed him with, even making a show of it. Fenris hadn’t known that Dorian would try to make him laugh here, but he did, and he was successful. Dorian had started out sliding back into his place between long elvhen legs, he had reached out one had to press them farther apart for…something and Fenris had froze again.

It was stupid. It didn’t bother him when they had started, and it wasn’t the nudity, but the sudden shift, perhaps it was the suddenness, had made him softly whisper that word. Dorian had rolled until they laid side by side, nude, disheveled and panting, on the bed. Eventually Fenris was calm, and coaxed the mage back with clumsy but enchanting fingers, and a mouth that was rapidly getting used to kissing. Fenris had expected sex. Immediate relief , in and out in an hour, so when Dorian had touched him, after a long stroke of delicate fingers, if calloused from the swinging of his stave, and done so feather light, Fenris had blurted one question or another.

Which led to now.

Dorian had lain along his side, pressing languidly against him, sharing kisses, nips along the jawbone, a supportive arm, and one hand manipulating and stroking the whole of his front. Fenris had at least been right in the mage liking his genitals. Narrowed eyes watching every time his fingers did something to make Fenris’s eyes flutter and cock jump. When his tip had begun leaking in earnest, Dorian had begun using his tongue more on Fenris’s throat. Leading to a wealth of new cravings Fenris had never thought to experience from his point of view.

And now, he wanted a bath. He’d reduced the warrior to a sprawling indolent pile of elf, twitching and craving for the next touch, and he wanted to break for a bath.

“Oh don’t glare so, amatus.” He teased “I promise, more fun, but I’m baking you like this.”

Fenris huffed “Fine. I’ll defer to you on that.”

He had thought watching a mage heat bathwater with magic would be off-putting, but it just made muscles clench for odd reasons. The mage added oils and such, until the room was filled with a relaxingly scented steam. Dorian stood in the tub and pulled him close. “In.”

It was a big thing. Claw footed, deep. Undoubtedly Orlesian. Also just a little wonderful. Dorians hands were on him again, rubbing tight circles over flesh, massaging soreness he didn’t know he had, before dunking down and washing his own hair.

Slowly Fenris began his own bathing, running fingers though white strands to work soap in, pulling errant locks in front or behind long ears, a hazard of being an elf, wet hair draping awkwardly until moved.  Fenris really didn’t know how much more clean he could get, but the oils made his skin and hair soft, and he was on the verge of simply curling up on Dorian and sleeping, cat jokes be damned.

One of Dorians arms pulled him close.  “Shall we continue?”

He huffed, leaning forward until he laid along the humans chest, eyes only half open.

Dorian chuckled, using one arm to hold him in place, and allowing his off hand to stroke up and down the elf’s back. “No? Sleepy Fenris time?”

What had been planned as a firm bite was more of a kittenish nip at the olive collar bone. Dorian laughed at him. “Why don’t we stop for a bit? I seem to have tuckered you out, poor thing.”

Fenris growled. Well. He made some form of rumbling noise that could vaguely imply aggression, and then shifted to curl in the humans lap. He was just a bit too drowsy and decadent at the moment to feel much shame. But a sudden burst of…something, and his mouth was moving. “Touch me?”

He felt heat crawl up his throat into his face. It wasn’t the question but the sheer idea that he was close enough to somebody to ask. The light gasp the mage let out didn’t hurt.

In a moment a hand wrapped around the flagging erection, and Fenris was humming and gasping into the mans neck within minutes. “If you’d planned to play with me all day, you could have warned me.” He grumbled good naturedly after a few more minutes.

Dorian squeezed, and Fenris gasped. “Okay then, impatient glowy ser.” Dorian stated off. “ Do you trust me?”

Fenris snorted. “No. Not at all. I usually let my enemies do all of this, didn’t you know?”

“Alright, I’m going to lay you back, and I’m going to move one leg, alright?”

Fenris sighed, and allowed himself to be shifted backwards, staring interestedly as Dorian gently lifted one leg from the water (Cold. Bastard.) and had him hook his knee over the tubs rim, leaving him spread and a bit curious as to what came next. Hopefully him, his mind, definitely corrupted by Isabela, supplied. He almost groaned and hid his face in his hands. Of all the things that had been done this day, the thing that made him want to hide was imagining Isabela’s quips? This may say something strange about him as a person. He brushed it off when Dorian began gently kissing at his upper chest.

One hand slipping under his hips to lift a bit, the other glancing up the back of his thigh, over his rear and back again.

Fenris hummed. “I see.” He lifted both arms from the water to hook around the warm rim of the tub, flexing his hips to slide back, giving Dorian more room, bending the remaining leg to half curl about his waist as the human slid closer.

“One moment, you’re a blushing virgin, and then you do _that_.” Dorian sighed, shaking his head, but smiling fondly.  “I can’t pin you down.”

“Well, I’m sure you can…”

The hands stilled and they merely stared at each other for a moment before the laughter began.

“Maker Fenris, that was terrible! Utterly terrible. I should leave in protest.”

“I would probably kill you.”

Dorian smirked “Duress and threats. I see how it is.” He sighed dramatically and leaned over, his mouth latching onto a dark nipple. Fenris made a choking noise. Dorian flicked his eyes up to smirk arrogantly, as if he had won something that Fenris wasn’t quite sure of, but one of Dorians fingers had worked its way inside him, and he couldn’t be much bothered to think on it.

Dorian switched slowly from his nipples, to the dip of his collar bone, down to that soft place just below the center of his sternum. Never lifting his mouth completely, lapping gently at each area, eyes closed at the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the tub as Fenris flexed his hips, grinding against nothing and sounding frustrated about it. Another finger worked inside, and the elf’s jaw tightened, cords in his throat standing out, leg at his waist tightening as a soft hiss slid out.

Dorian had seen him like this when he had first began to touch him in places uncommon to mere friends, and simply made a soft noise before scissoring his fingers, relishing in the breathless gasp. Fenris tensed his legs, trying to draw himself down harder on the questing fingers. Dorian (Bastard) would pull his fingers out of the depths until he stopped, returning to the light (infuriating) thrusting when he stopped his attempts. He moved his mouth up to Fenris’s neck placing kisses, sucking up more marks, nipping and teasing. One finger found a small bundle and touched lightly inside.

Fenris gave a stuttering gasp and went mostly limp, legs tense and twitching. One thing Dorian had seen early on was the twitching, it was adorable, and it was rapidly becoming a fetish.

“Again.” He managed to choke out, trying to chase the teasing retreating fingers.

“Ah, you know, some people don’t like it touched to much, makes them sore.”

Fenris glared, of course, drenched, heavily aroused, and out of breath, with his blush prominent he didn’t cast much of an imposing figure. “I’m sore every day, I’d prefer to be so from something I liked.”

Dorian breathed out a small laugh and bent down to kiss at the long neck once more, returning his fingers to the directed place for a few moments, loving how Fenris’s leg tightened around him, the light writhing motions the elf’s body carried through. Dorian grinned and pulled back his hand once more. Fenris let loose a slow, frustrated whine, that turned into a choked moan when Dorian began to slide his fingers in and out at a more rapid pace, touch more firm.

His breath was reaching a crescendo, heat in his stomach liquid and molten, his cock hot and tingling, balls tight to his body, and the fingers retreated, pressing to the underside of his swollen prick.

“Festis bei umo canavarum!” The elf snarled, thrashing for a moment before settling back, still too sensitive to want to leave the waters hold, but glaring heatedly at the mage who was smiling, looking innocent… _Trying_ to look innocent.

“Oh! But there’s so much more I want to do Fenris.” He stated grandly, teasing glint in his eyes. “Aren’t you having fun?”

Mind centering on just how hard and decadent he felt, the strange openness in his lower body, the sudden realization that he’d forgotten three of his limbs were cold. He licked at his lips only to find them flavored of the mage, wet, swollen. He let out a shaky sigh. “Fine. What next?” If it didn’t feel so good he doubted he’d let the mage play with him like this. But he could play along a bit longer.

Dorian grinned. “I don’t want you drying out, poor little elf husk.”

“Get on with it.”

“Why, a quick massage, then back to bed. I’ll even take some pressure off.” He said slyly, one thumb rubbing circles on the lyrium line on his inner thigh.

Fenris sighed and stood, shakily, Dorian led him to a low table. “It’s firm, I usually put drinks or soaps on it.” He murmured, walking from the room for a moment and returning with a pillow. “For your head.” He explained needlessly.

Fenris growled, partly hopelessly aroused, partly very done with the sheer amount of time this was taking. Dorian had added a wanting ache to his hips and thighs. He was still hard. And…

His mind fizzled and popped when Dorian’s hands rested on his flanks again, warm cream following the smooth strokes of his hands. He sighed, arousal dulling to a throb somewhere south, as the firm stroking made its way to his arms and stomach. He purred softly.

“You’re very easily distracted, you know. What do you do in battle? Dash off to nap in sunbeams midway through gutting a bandit?”

“Silence. You’re good at this.” The words seemed to be pulled with great reluctance from his throat.

Dorian grinned working his way down one arm, both hands stopping at the wrist to massage the joint. Fenris hummed. “Didn’t know it was tight.”

Dorian snorted “ _All_ of you is _tight_. And I mean that in any and every way.” He stated “But I figured, swinging that sword about all day.”

Fenris merely hummed as the mage repeated the treatment on the other arm, and worked down. The firm press becoming seemingly less innocent as he worked to the hips. Fenris growled softly and stretched languidly, still firm cock twitching. Dorian merely smiled and worked down his legs, to sore, weather beaten feet.

“Elves need to share their skin care secrets.” Dorian sniffed “You don’t wear shoes and your feet feel like silk. I hate you.”

Fenris laughed, lower, and throatier than he was used to. “I might be convinced.”

Dorian snickered and continued on. “Okay, roll over.”

Fenris shot him a filthy look. “I don’t think that will be relaxing.” He said dryly, eyes flickering to his stomach. He hadn’t flagged, and a sticky pool was forming on his stomach.

Dorian grinned wickedly “Trust me?”

Fenris made a disgusted noise but tuned over, trying to find a comfortable way to lie down, Dorian slid another pillow under his hips and Fenris was torn between being grateful and being mutinous.

Dorian worked up his legs, skimmed teasing hands over his buttocks and massaged slowly up his back. Fenris had taken up a gentle grind into the soft pillow, slow panting laboring his breath.  He heard a soft chuckle and was brought back into reality at a soft brush of lips on the back of his neck. He felt hopelessly pliant as Dorian stroked hands back down his body, reaching his rear and  spreading him.

“What’re you-!” Fenris began asking before he shuddered and went still at the feel of a soft tongue lapping at him, sending little jolts up his spine, mustache feeling no different than the few wisps of hair he could feel . He wasn’t sure how to ask for more, was he supposed to push back? Start his rocking again?

The thought was cut short when two thumbs delved deeper, pulling him wider, the cold startling for a moment before the tongue snaked in.

“Dori!” His cheeks flushed, his voice had cracked and the ‘an’ had not managed to find its way into the air. Dorian didn’t seem to mind as his rhythm didn’t falter. The soft noises in the room obscene. Fenris brought himself to his elbows to stop smothering himself in the pillow, hot bursts of breath bouncing back from the cloth. Soft noises escaped his mouth. Much like in battle, he was quiet, but still vocal, and Dorian seemed to react to it well enough. Altering his rythem to pay attention to places and patterns and pressures that made Fenris grind down, or make a slightly louder noise.

And then he pulled back, again.

Fenris was too shaky to complain, legs almost numb from hips to knees beyond the tingling and clenching. The hollow ache was back. “Please.”

“What?”

Fenris drew in another shaky breath “Please.” The words came so quietly that Dorian needed to strain to hear.

“Of course, amatus. Take my hand and I’ll help you to bed.”

His heart was pounding so hard that he was surprised he didn’t twitch like a childs toy with each beat as he fell back into the soft sheets and plush mattress, using his arms to turn himself, turning his head to fix the mage with a stare. “Please?”

Dorian blinked, crawling on after the elf and making eye contact as he slowly spread the long legs to slip between them. Part of him wanted to tease, but he had enough. Or prod Fenris for his soft pleading, but, at the same time he felt warm inside, the vicious elf was pliant, his, and confident enough to ask. He wouldn’t pick on him for that.

Dorian slid back, Fenris’s grasping hands sliding without strength against his face and shoulders as he looked at his retreat, lost and confused. Dorian gave him what he hoped was a confident smile before lowering his mouth to the elfs stomach, slowly kissing down, stopping only to dip his tongue in the navel. He relished in the twitch he received, he tilted his chin down to lap at the smear of sticky fluid that hadn’t been completely removed, humming happily as he moved down, swiping a broad lick up the thick erection.

Fenris gasped and made a few small semi choking noises, letting his head fall to the side and flexing his hips, near unwillingly. “Dorian.”

It was a soft murmur, but a content one, and it only made Dorian work harder, licking, kissing, nipping at the tip, fingers sliding what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. He was well endowed for an elf. The thought came and went, like saying the sky was blue. He pulled off with a small gasp for air, thumb rubbing firm circles on the head before moving his hand and diving back down, sucking somewhere between firm and gentle, at first he had held Fenris’s hips down a little, but now used to it he simply let the thrashing elf has his mouth. Soon he felt the organ swelling, reaching one hand down to lightly stroke the clenching entrance he hoped to use in a few moments time he gave a particularly hard suck, and Fenris fell with a strangled yell.

Laying sweat soaked and heaving, hips still rocking up and down, legs spread obscenely wide, arms spread, hands clenching at thick blankets cock still held between the mages lips as a small trickle of something pearly white seeped from one corner of his mouth. The man pulled pack and swiped it up with a finger, licking it off.

Dorian grinned and delivered a long lick to the swollen vein, and by default the strip of lyrium that covered it, on the underside of the softening cock. He doubted lyrium potions would ever hold the same appeal…Or be useable in mixed company.

Fenris still felt hollow, though his penis not being hard as veridium was a welcome relief.

He hummed softly, looking at the mage with a question.

“Oh, insatiable, are you?” He purred, sliding back up the Elfs body and bracing himself with two arms on either side of the elf’s head as he leaned down for another hot, open mouthed kiss.

When Fenris was released he felt his lips tingling, swelling again, and a taste on his tongue that made him blush.

Dorian leaned down “Can I use magic? Just a little. Like when I heated the water, but different?”

He hesitated, but took a deep breath and nodded. Dorian had never led him astray. He could…try.

He felt one leg maneuvered to hook around the bigger humans waist, heard a distant clicking and then glorious fingers returned to where he most needed them. His soft moan was enough for Dorian to speed up a bit. His head was next to Fenris’s, almost in the pillow, his panting sending odd shivers through Fenris. “I’m going to start. Say the word and I stop.” He panted, shifting slightly to lick one long ear moments before his markings lit.

“Ah!” His back bowed, the fingers almost slipped free, Fenris gave up on trusting his abdominal muscles to hold him in place and flung the other leg around him too to stop the retreat. “Easier on your shoulder.” He gasped, writhing and arching again, feeling like he needed that little electrical pulse, and yet wanted it far away. “What?”

Dorian pulled back, lifting one leg carefully over a shoulder before coming back down into a frenzied kiss. “Healing spell, so it won’t hurt.” He panted.

Fenris’s eyes rolled back for a moment as another streak of magic shot up his spine, he felt himself getting hard again, felt himself clenching. “Am I ready?” He murmured, soft voice broken with a cracked gasp as he bucked again.

Dorian chuckled and pulled back, Fenris’s arms following to hold him back on top of him, where he needed to be.

With a soft whimper, a shudder, and a gentle rocking of his hips Fenris watched him coat his own cock in oil. He felt his mouth go dry, then water, the dark skin slick and shining under the oil. Another day.

Dorian laid back down shifting Fenris’s legs back where they needed to be, one hand on his hip as he guided himself in. Fenris’s eyes widened, mouth falling open, then falling victim to the mages frenzied mouth and tongue. He felt the soft pull when the mage retreated, the insane pressure as he pressed in, silky skin, Dorians broken words and noises, surprisingly not loud either. Fenris followed each thrust with his hips, gasping for something.

“Harder?” He suggested after a few moments of the sweet torture, and the happiness of finally not feeling hollow.

Dorian obliged and Fenris held on tightly as he felt himself jostled up the bed, soon reaching behind him to push against the headboard, wishing the flimsy piece of an otherwise firm bed would stop hitting the wall, or to prevent himself from being pushed  into it.

It felt a bit like drowning. He thought. If drowning made his markings flare and his body sing because Dorian was apparently in no way in control of his base magic while doing this. Eventually he found himself braced against the headboard he’d been trying to avoid, soft, but fevered noised falling from his lips as his back arched and his hips thrust back, hard cock bouncing and slapping him and his partner until one delicately boned hand gripped him and pumped to the brutal pace the elf himself had goaded them into.

Eventually his back bowed one more time, muscles jumping in his legs as he cried out, a sharp keening noise and felt hot liquid on his stomach, some dribbling yet from the swollen head. Dorian made a move to stop and despite the prominent piece of the elf that wanted to lay down and bask in having been pleasured so well, he tightened the grip of his legs and pulled the man into another savage kiss, hips grinding into Dorian’s stomach. The man gave a growl quite unlike him and continued the pace, ramming into the pliant, sated body, relishing in the soft keening Fenris released near constantly as his over sensitive body was plundered further. Eventually the soft body tensed once more, at a particularly delicious thrust and Dorian felt himself come undone, rutting up into the elf, broken gasps falling on hypersensitive ears he thrust his hips until he felt the fluid stop coming.

He leaned against the heaving chest of his partner, delivering soft kisses as tokens, eyelashes fluttering as he held tight. Soon he felt his cock softening enough to slip out on its own, and with a groan he pulled back.

Fenris blushed slightly as he felt his companions seed drip from him. Legs too weak to hold him up he needed to wait until the man pulled them down from the backboard of the bed and left them to lie side by side gasping for breath and relishing in the pulses of the aftershock. Fenris’s limbs all twitched on occasion, he still raised his hips as if still being fucked by some phantom Dorian, but slower, shallower, and some it too was mild twitching.

“So that was a good idea?”

“Dorian shut up.”

The mage chuckled and threw his arm over the elf, ignoring the mess now on his arm, and rolled them together, thankful that the wet spot was at least a ways from either of them. And pressed a lazy kiss to the swollen mouth of his elf.

Fenris relented in his stiffness and sighed. “Yes. Good idea. Though I might ask.” He trailed off, still breathing heavily, he looked away, then back, vulnerable.  “If this could perhaps…Be something we did? Not-“ He hurriedly explained “-just the sex. But…This?” He sort of shifted to indicate the embrace.

Dorian furrowed his brow and Fenris looked moments from simply retracting the offer. “You..You know what it’s like…” Dorian started fitfully, holding tightly. “In…”

Fenris leaned forward and bit him on the side of the neck. Not a painful bite, but a sharp nip that left him yelping.

“I escaped the Imperium. I won’t have it following me.”

Dorian looked conflicted for but a moment “You know I need to-“

“And then you’ll return here, if you choose…whatever this is!” Fenris said sharply “But I understand if-“

“No. I..I want. This, that is.” Dorian choked out before returning somewhat to his usual articulate self. “You know, what the Imperium is like. Two men would not be accepted, and with your past, you cannot follow me. I can’t have you, and Tevinter.”

“So you choose your home. Of course.” Fenris said, he looked wounded, but his voice came out clipped and dry. His eyes had always been a tell.

“If when this is over, amatus.” Dorian continued, holding a squirming Fenris tight “If you want this. I will go to Tevinter. But I will return here. Within the year. I’ll send letters through Maevaris. I’d need to anyway. My parents may be in Tevinter. But my family…They’re in Skyhold.”

Fenris snorted “Always such flair.”

Dorian squeezed him just a bit too tight on purpose. “I mean it. Whether you still want this or not. You’re my friend. And I’ll come back.”

Fenris hummed sleepily and cuddled in closer. “You’ll find I don’t let things I choose go. I want you to come back to this. Friends or lovers.”

Dorian smiled and pressed his face into the disheveled mass of white hair. “Oh fine. Have it your way. But can we keep this to a minimum? The syrupy speech? You know I-“

“Hate confessions? Yes. Now go to sleep mage.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank y'all for reading. I would like to state that this was written by a person who doesn't sleep frequently. Please feel free to politely point our spelling/grammar errors, and hopefully I'll post something better soon.


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